


All We Said and Left Unsaid

by letsbreereal



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Assumptions, Betrayal, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings, Post-Canon Fix-It, Relationship Problems, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:21:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22454077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letsbreereal/pseuds/letsbreereal
Summary: In a dimly lit Kadaran cave, Scott and Reyes exchange some words. They also leave a whole hell of a lot out.(Or: The game leaves a lot to be desired when it comes to the ultimatum Ryder faces during High Noon. There's no opportunity for Ryder express any emotion, to wrestle with the decision that has to be made... As far as the game is concerned, there's only two options: accept the revelations with a smile and a "no big deal," or cut everything off and then pretend it never happened in the first place. This is my attempt to fix that, a third -- actually /human/ -- reaction I would've liked to see.)
Relationships: Male Ryder | Scott/Reyes Vidal, Ryder/Reyes Vidal
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	All We Said and Left Unsaid

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Past Noon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21933340) by [AinZaphir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AinZaphir/pseuds/AinZaphir). 



> After reading the incredible one-shot AinZaphir gifted to me during the MEFFWSS 2019 exchange -- Past Noon, which does an amazing job exploring the angst and hurt felt by both Sara and Reyes following the events of High Noon (and which, if you haven't yet read, you should immediately stop and go read) -- I couldn't help but be inspired to do my own deep dive into the High Noon and its fallout, this time with Scott and Reyes.
> 
> This will be a two-shot, with this first chapter my actual headcanon for the Scott/Reyes relationship in the game, and the second my fix-it for everything that happened after the revelations of High Noon. The dialogue in this first chapter and the physical actions are almost exactly the same as the in-game mission, with one notable exception. This is how I saw the mission playing out, how I had to rationalize the choices Scott made during this sequence.
> 
> The next chapter will be more canon-divergent, because I sure as hell cannot leave my two babies as torn apart and without closure as the game left them. I haven't finished writing it yet, so your comments and critiques are much appreciated! ♥
> 
> Spoilers for High Noon, and a couple of minor side quests (including Liam's loyalty mission).

_I’ll watch your back_.

The promise is playing on repeat in his brain, taunting him with the stupidity of his earlier words. As he follows the Outcast leader into the poorly-lit and incredibly isolated cave, Scott asks himself – for the _twelfth_ time now – what the _hell_ he’d been thinking making a promise like that.

It’s not as if there’s any love lost between him and Sloane Kelly, after all. He has no actual interest in her wellbeing. In fact, he’s fairly certain he prefers the Collective to the Outcasts, given everything he’s seen on Kadara.

But then… _the devil you know_ , and all.

If tailing Sloane to this clandestine meeting is what it takes to get some leverage on establishing an outpost, then so be it. He’d work with the devil if it meant another viable home for colonists. Or, you know, more work to distract Tann and Addison and keep them off his back. He’d work with just about anyone if it meant shutting _those two_ up for a bit.

 _But_ … this whole thing is just _so obviously_ a trap.

Slowing as they got near a large opening in the cave, Scott gives a partial turn, his gaze roaming over the darkness for anything that seems out of place. He’s the only one that turns, the only one who seems even remotely concerned about their surroundings. Sloane continues forward with blind confidence, either indifferent to the danger or feeling particularly invincible with a Pathfinder at her back.

Scott’s halfway through the turn when he hears it.

“You look like you’re waiting for someone.”

He knows that voice, would recognize it anywhere. And he knows those words, too, but there’s nothing familiar about the tone they’re spoken in. Harsh, deeper, more ominous… It’s his lover’s voice, but it’s _not_ at the same time.

Scott’s chest tightens painfully as he turns, just in time to catch sight of an intimately familiar figure stepping out of the shadows and into the light. A distant part of his mind recognizes how poetic the moment is – the literal and figurative parallel of the simple movement – but Scott can’t focus on that right now, can’t focus on anything but the cold, dispassionate expression on the Chilean’s normally emotive face.

“Reyes?” he can’t help but ask, cutting himself off and leaving his real question hanging in the air. He’d meant to convey _What are you doing?_ or even _What is your plan?_ , but Scott hears the plea in his own voice, is sure everyone around him can hear it, too. _Please_. Reyes, _please._

His lover doesn’t even spare him a glance, and Scott feels his heart constrict. He can’t tell what the other man’s thinking, can’t figure out if the use of that signature phrase is meant to be a message of some kind. Surely Reyes expects Scott to recognize it… but is it meant to be the punch line of an awful joke – a _gotchya!_ jab to the gut that the other man couldn’t resist tossing out? – _or_ is it meant to be a reminder of their relationship – an acknowledgement of something that can’t be said aloud?

Beside him, Sloan shifts in her spot, rocking weight onto her back leg with clear disinterest. “I’m here for the Charlatan, not some third-rate smuggler,” she states, finally taking the time to turn and look elsewhere in the cave.

It’s an incredibly foolish decision, but Sloane, apparently, isn’t _getting_ it. Scott decides to cut to the chase and point out the obvious: “They’re one and the same.”

“Surprise.” There’s little amusement in the word, little emotion at all, and the disconnect between _this_ Reyes and _his_ Reyes leaves Scott with an odd sense of whiplash.

Reyes is the Charlatan.

It makes sense, with the benefit of hindsight, but Scott doesn’t have time for ruminations. He doesn’t have time to dwell on the past; the present has his full attention.

 _I’ll watch your back_.

A part of him wonders if Sloane has any idea how out-the-window that agreement has just become.

Scott hasn’t been overly shy about his past dealings with the relatively well-known smuggler, after all. Hell, he’d attended Sloane’s own party as Reyes Vidal’s plus one. By now, it had to be glaringly obvious the two are on friendly terms, if nothing else.

That alone should make the Outcast leader question her choice in backup. _Friendly terms_ was leagues ahead of how even the most optimistic and uninformed observer would describe the relationship between Sloane and the human Pathfinder.

Oh, but he’d given his word, hadn’t he?

 _I’ll watch your back_.

And he’s the human Pathfinder, after all. He’s supposed to be noble and incapable of lying or breaking his promises.

Of course, that hadn’t stopped him from letting Tann exile Andromeda’s ‘First Murderer,’ even after the evidence had proven him not guilty. Not _innocent_ , either – not by a long shot – and that had been close enough for Scott.

As a rule, Scott doesn’t like liars. Not when it comes to the big things, at least. Small lies… _white_ lies… – like when he assures Lexi that he’s _fine, really_ , or when he lets Gil think Scott’s been beating him _fair and square_ at poker, or when he couldn’t bring himself to tell a comatose Sara that _everything_ had gone to shit, that not only was their father dead, but that the golden worlds _also_ hadn’t panned out... – _those_ are different. Hell, even secrets don’t really bother him. He never asks Vetra for details on half of the shipments she arranges, and he never pushes PeeBee to share more than she’s comfortable with. White lies and secrets are different. They aren’t really betraying someone’s trust.

But the big lies? Oh, Scott doesn’t forgive those easily. Ask Liam. After the whole giving-out-Nexus-data-and-rescuing-Verand debacle, Scott had indefinitely suspended Liam’s mission privileges. He still hasn’t taken him out in the field even once since, because if someone betrays your trust once, there’s nothing stopping them from doing it again.

So, no, Scott doesn’t much like liars. But he’s prepared to become one. He’s prepared to break an oath he made and completely betray the trust he’d been given. He’s prepared to do it in front of two of his teammates.

 _I’ll watch your back_.

His palm closes over the backstrap of his sidearm. His movements are practiced – smooth and non-attention-grabbing – as he slips the pistol out of its holster and keeps it low at his side.

He’s not sure if Cora or PeeBee see him move. He’s not sure either of them have _any_ idea what he’s preparing to do – maybe it looks like he’s just readying for an inevitable conflict. He’s _absolutely_ _sure_ neither of them will interfere.

They’ve got his back.

He doesn’t have to think about the consequences about what he’s about to do, about _morality_ or _law_ , because there’s nothing to consider, here.

 _Reyes_ or Sloane.

It isn’t a choice.

There’s no version of this where it would ever have been a choice.

 _I’ll watch your back, Sloane_. _Just keep focusing on the armed man in front of you._

Still, he wants to know what Reyes’ plan is, knows the other man has to have one if he’d willingly set all of this in motion. He takes a step back from Sloan, keeping his body angled to hide his sidearm as he shifts his focus – temporarily, and only _partially_ – to the recently revealed Charlatan.

“This whole time, you’ve been lying to me.” It’s not what Scott means to say, but it’s what comes out, and it’s safe enough. It doesn’t tip his hand to Sloane, though the surprise, the _hurt_ in his voice quite probably tips his hand to Reyes.

No matter. The pistol weighing heavily in his hand is about to be revealing enough.

“Not about everything,” Reyes insists, sparing Scott a quick glance that in no way manages to convey a single damned thing about their situation, about his _plan_. “You know who I really am.”

But _does he_? Scott can’t help but wonder, and he wants more than anything for that to be true, but he can’t help the doubt that’s starting to creep in.

Perhaps Reyes means it the other way around. Perhaps it’s _Reyes_ who knows who _Scott_ really is – knows exactly what lengths Scott would be willing to go to in order to protect him.

 _I’ll watch your back_.

Maybe Reyes had known all along that this is where they’d end up. Maybe he’d orchestrated it so Sloane was left with no one to turn to but the human Pathfinder – the Pathfinder that Reyes had ensured would be on his side.

It doesn’t really matter at this point.

There’s never been a choice.

Sloane, unaware of the danger now completely surrounding her, steps another foot forward, exposing even more of her back to the last person in the galaxy she should’ve ever relied upon for this particular confrontation.

It would only be a matter of half a second. A simple twitch of his arm.

“You said you wanted to ‘settle things,’” the soon-to-be dead Outcast leader states, steering the conversation back on track. “How?”

And Scott is curious enough to listen, can’t wait to hear what exactly his lover’s master plan had been, so he waits. He arches a brow in the other man’s direction, but Reyes still hasn’t spared him a glance.

Is that a tactical strategy? He can’t help but wonder... Is Scott so obviously not a threat that Reyes doesn’t feel the need to divert any attention his way?

Reyes leaps from the higher ledge, landing and taking a step toward his rival. It’s a testament to Scott’s composure and resolve that he doesn’t so much as flinch at the unexpected movement.

He’d twitched when they’d made first contact on Habitat 7 – had been indecisive and had rushed to judgment the second the Kett soldier had moved threateningly toward Fisher. As it turned out, he’d made the _right_ decision to fire first instead of following first contact protocol, but it had been a _hasty_ decision, made on the heels of a rush of adrenaline and nerves.

Scott doesn’t feel those nerves now. He’s calm, cool… _determined_. His mind has already wrapped around the facts of what he’s about to do.

“A duel,” Reyes proposes. “You and me. Right now. Winner takes Kadara Port.”

It’s a _terrible_ plan – laughably bad, really – and for a moment, Scott is sure there’s a punch-line coming somewhere. It doesn’t come. He can’t help but interject: “You want to avoid war by _shooting_ each other?” There’s a bit more confusion in his voice than he truly feels – because _of course_ they want to avoid war by shooting each other instead! – but Scott can’t for the life of him wrap his head around why Reyes thinks this is even remotely a good idea.

Sloane’s back is still to him. Reyes still doesn’t spare him a glance as he answers, predictably: “Two people shooting each other is better than a lot of people shooting each other.”

And _one_ person shooting the other was even better, as far as Scott is concerned.

 _I’ll watch your back_.

His finger shifts into place over the trigger.

It’s a much better plan.

Reyes is lucky he’s here.

Blinded by her own self-confidence and unable to even contemplate the possibility she’s about to be betrayed, Sloane juts her chin into the air. “I’ll take those terms.”

And just like that, everything gets infinitely more difficult. Scott stands at attention, watching carefully for his opportunity as the two begin to slowly circle.

He should’ve taken the damn shot when he had the chance. It would’ve been easier, after all, to shoot Sloane in the back when she was standing _still_ , but Reyes had had to go and propose they _duel_ instead.

Because apparently Reyes is comfortable _gambling_ his life on the chance that he’ll be the quicker draw. Or maybe he thinks that’s the only way _honorable_ _Pathfinder_ Scott will let this takeover happen.

Reyes is _damn_ lucky Scott isn’t willing to gamble with his lover’s life.

But Scott needs to be careful, now – careful to make sure _both_ are at an angle where they won’t see his move coming until it’s too late – because pulling a gun during someone else’s duel is risky. Move at the wrong moment, and either one of the duelists might notice the motion and react as if it was the other was starting to draw. Wait too long, and it might not matter anyways.

He needs to wait for the right moment.

He can’t wait much longer or it really _will_ be a matter of chance.

A steady breath, and Scott just starts to lift his arm to take the shot when his gaze snags on a flash of light.

SAM’s voice immediately answers the question that’s only barely started to form in his mind. “Sniper.”

There’s a moment where the rest of SAM’s warning doesn’t fully register, where Scott’s sure it’s _Reyes_ that is in danger, where he readies himself for a dive across the cavern to knock his lover out of the line of fire, but his mind catches up with him before he can act.

His brain manages to process the second half of SAM’s alert: “His sights are set on Sloane.”

 _Oh_.

Well.

Maybe Reyes’ plan _isn’t_ so terrible, after all, if he’d never intended to leave things up to chance.

_I’ll watch your back._

Standing back somehow feels harder, but Scott manages to bring his hand back down to his side. He releases the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding just as the sound of the shot pierces the silence.

“ _Bang_.” There’s a smirk on Reyes’ lips, his fingers raised in the air in a mockery of a finger-gun.

Sloane’s on her knees, and before he realizes he’s moved, Scott’s stepped out from his position behind her, taking a moment to look over the wound and ensure the sniper’s aim had been true.

He notes the gun she’s managed to draw but not quite lift, feels his stomach sink with the realization of exactly how close the sniper had cut it, of how easily everything could’ve gone down so very differently. He doesn’t flinch at the look of betrayal on the Outcast leader’s face. His expression doesn’t reveal a thing, even as he watches her fall to the ground, eyes locked onto his.

 _I’ll watch your back_.

Some dark corner of his mind notes that he’d never promised to watch her _front_ , but not even dark humor can draw him out of his cold composure. He waits until he’s certain she’s actually dead before removing his finger from the sidearm’s trigger, but even then, he keeps the weapon unholstered at his side.

Reyes is issuing orders and walking away, even as Scott’s own voice continues to echo in his ears.

“Get her out of here. Prepare the crew. Kadara Port is ours tonight,” Reyes is saying.

 _I’ll watch your back_ , is all Scott hears.

But movement quickly draws his attention back to the present, and Scott shifts to follow after Reyes, even though the man has still failed to so much as glance in his direction. They’re headed away from the others, toward an empty part of the cavern where just a single beam of sunlight streams down from a crack.

He uses his free hand to signal Cora and Peebee to stay back and give them privacy. His grip never loosens from the pistol at his side.

Reyes still hasn’t looked at him.

Scott tries to give his lover the benefit of the doubt, grants that perhaps the other man is just waiting to get out of earshot from any Collective agents he has in the area, but it feels like a rationalization. It’s feels like he’s slipped from the top of the cliff, and is scrambling and reaching for any purchase he can find, but every rock he touches crumbles under the weight of his hand.

Reyes _still_ hasn’t looked at him.

Scott suddenly decides they’re far enough – that he’s _had_ enough. “Guess you got everything you wanted.” He lobs the statement at his lover’s back like the accusation it is, his volume reined in, but bitterness obvious in every word.

He wants desperately for Reyes to deny it, to argue that this _hadn’t_ been the endgame all along – or at least, not the _whole_ of it. He wants more than anything for Reyes to flinch, shout, punch a rock – _anything_ to show Scott’s accusation actually affects him. He needs Reyes to give him literally _any_ sign that he hadn’t been just a pawn in the Charlatan’s master game.

But Reyes doesn’t do any of those things.

Instead, he merely angles his head so that his voice carries in the right direction as he recites what is clearly the party line: “What I _want_ is peace. Sloane would’ve brought war to Heleus. We don’t have the population to survive that.”

He doesn’t look at Scott.

He doesn’t slow his forward pace.

He doesn’t say that what he _really_ wants is _Scott_.

The unspoken words speak louder than any shout ever could.

Because Reyes is the Charlatan. He’s been the Charlatan this whole time.

And – _God!_ – it makes so much sense, when he stops and thinks about it. Everything with the Roekaar, the way the Collective agents had been ordered to be on their best behavior around the Pathfinder… Scott should’ve seen it earlier.

But Reyes _is_ a shady bastard. Smooth. Scott had never suspected a thing. _I don’t buy it,_ Reyes had insisted, when Scott had relayed the rumors that the Charlatan had been behind the murders. No defensiveness. No hinting that the Collective might be better than the Outcasts. _It’s hard to trust a faceless leader_ , he’d even said.

It was harder still to trust a dual-faced one.

Reality catches up to him, and Scott’s analytical mind finally forces him to face the very likely possibility that _none_ of it had ever been real.

Reyes isn’t looking at him. He’s still walking away. He isn’t asking for forgiveness, or offering explanations, or making a joke about Scott not catching on earlier, or kissing him in celebration, or – _hell_! – _anything_. It’s like Scott’s not even registering on the new King of Kadar’s radar.

Was the whole thing manufactured, then? Part of a plan? Was the flirting a tactic? The _sex_? Scott’s feelings?

Had Reyes expected Sloane to ask Scott to be her backup? Had he been counting on Scott’s willingness to break his word, to sacrifice his values, if it only meant a chance at saving Reyes’ life? Should Scott be waiting around now for a command to _jump_?

And just what would’ve happened had Scott chosen to keep his word, had he warned Sloane of the sniper? Would the next shot taken have been aimed at _Scott’s_ chest? What would happen now, if he didn’t respond exactly the way Reyes wanted? Was there a contingency plan? Another backup sniper, perhaps?

Barely moving, he adjusts his grip on the pistol he still holds by his side. He takes a steadying breath, trying to draw back on that cold composure he’d had at his fingertips only moments ago.

Scott prides himself on rolling with punches. He doesn’t let things get under his skin, doesn’t let anyone too close, or give anyone any real amount of leverage over his decisions or actions.

But he’d let this man _more_ than get under his skin. He’d let this _Charlatan_ get past all of his usual defenses, let him burrow his way beneath his ribcage and – _damn it!_ – the bastard had gotten into his heart when Scott hadn’t been paying attention.

He wants to rage, wants to fall to his knees, wants to scream his throat raw, wants to hurl his pistol across the cave, wants to bend over and break himself in half….

He does none of those things.

Instead, Scott keeps moving one foot in front of the other, eyes trained ahead and voice carefully controlled. “Why didn’t you trust me?” he asks, because _Why don’t you want me?_ is not an option, and _Was this all part of your plan?_ would be giving away the only cards left in his hand.

 _That_ gets Reyes to finally pause, to stop where he is, head lowered in either regret or shame or something meant to resemble one of the two – Scott isn’t sure which – as he slowly, _carefully_ turns around. He steps towards him, closing the distance between them, and Scott has to beat back the urge to shift away.

He’s suddenly not so sure he’s ready for the answer, but it’s too late. The question can’t be unasked, and for better or worse, he finally has the Charlatan’s full attention.

\- - - ღ - - -

So swept up in implementing the next phase of his plans is Reyes that he doesn’t immediately realize he’s alone in his confident, satisfied swagger – that the partner at his side is lagging behind, watching him with all the wariness of a man approaching a sleeping predator.

“Why didn’t you trust me?”

At first, he doesn’t recognize the question for what it is. He’s been expecting this line of questioning, after all; it was inevitable. So he lets out a breath, ducking his head in resignation as he turns to give the answer he knows his lover will find insufficient.

He expects to be scolded for not confiding the truth earlier, perhaps even mocked, made to beg or outright apologize.

He doesn’t expect to have all the breath knocked out of him.

Ryder’s not arching a familiar but sardonic brow. He’s not pinching his face together the way he usually does whenever he’s trying to figure out a missing piece from a puzzle. He’s not even brimming with irritation in that decidedly _Ryder_ way that means _I’m trying so hard to react like an adult is supposed to right now_.

In fact, Ryder’s not standing before him at all.

Reyes knows it with sudden, sinking certainty: the man staring back it him isn’t the Scott Ryder he knows and—

Well.

 _His_ Scott has all the confidence and youthful energy of a man who is undoubtedly under-qualified for the position he holds but somehow still the only man in the galaxy capable of actually performing the job. And _his_ Scott is never without a suggestive grin and a quick joke. But _this_ Scott… Reyes doesn’t recognize this man at all.

He’s _seen_ the human Pathfinder crack a joke in the face of danger, has seen him flash a grin and taunt a deranged Roekaar terrorist when Reyes himself hadn’t even been sure they’d make it out alive. To have Scott standing in front of him now, wary and without a trace of humor… He can’t help but give the man before him a once-over, almost certain he’ll find some sign of an imposter.

He finds something much, _much_ worse.

Gaze snagging on the unholstered pistol resting at his lover’s side, Reyes freezes. Pain claws at his chest, and he risks a quick glance up at the Pathfinder’s emotionless face before focusing back on the lethal weapon. “Ryder…” he breathes.

He doesn’t know what else to say.

 _Anger_ , he’d expected. Reyes is prepared to deal with an angry Pathfinder. He’s prepared to deal with a disappointed partner. What he is decidedly _not_ prepared to deal with is an injured lover. And _injured_ is exactly what he is. _Wounded_. There isn’t another way to describe the expression on the younger man’s face.

Slowly, Reyes lifts his hands a few inches, empty palms of his gloves turned outward in an attempt to show his lover that he means him no harm.

“Why didn’t you trust me?” Scott asks again, a hard edge to his voice that Reyes is completely unfamiliar with.

And – _shit_! – he’d gone about this all wrong, hadn’t he?

His hand twitches with the urge to raise it to his forehead and pinch at the bridge of his nose, but Reyes knows better than to move a muscle with an armed and anguished lover watching his every move. He’s made that mistake before, though usually it’s a _jilted_ lover and the gun is actually pointing at his head or chest or _crotch_.

Somehow, this feels infinitely more dangerous.

He should’ve paid more attention, should’ve realized that just because his lover hadn’t interfered with his little coup, hadn’t warned Sloane of the sniper – because there was _no_ doubt in Reyes’ mind that the Pathfinder had known about the sniper before the shot had been taken – _that_ didn’t mean the man had actually _understood_.

Oh, Reyes had been _so_ relieved, so flooded with satisfaction and triumph and adrenaline and endorphins that when the shot had gone off, when Ryder had calmly and quietly stepped to his side and they’d both watched Sloane Kelly take her last painful breath… he’d felt like a king.

And he hadn’t, for even a second, thought that Scott hadn’t been with him.

He’d known, of course, that this would be a possibility, that Scott might find out the truth and reject him – either for the truth itself or for the lies and omissions beforehand. He’d worried about that from the start, and that’s half the reason he hadn’t revealed his full identity before now, but when Scott had stood by his side… Reyes had thought the worst was behind them.

 _Hadn’t_ Ryder chosen him in that moment?

Or had he just chosen _the Collective_?

The urge to let out a bitter laugh strikes Reyes with a sudden intensity he can barely contain, because _of course_ the other man had just been choosing the Collective! It’s not as if the Initiative – and Ryder, specifically – hadn’t had a long history of issues with the Outcasts! Reyes had made himself Ryder’s confidant, after all. He’d been privy to the young Pathfinder’s thoughts and concerns. He’d been fairly confident in the direction the scales were tipping. Ryder wasn’t ever going to choose Sloane Kelly. Oh, Reyes had made damn sure of _that_ , but he _hadn’t_ made sure Ryder would choose _him_. It’s hilarious, truly.

He stays quiet because he knows this is not the time for laughter.

There’s another part of him, deep down, that’s wounded and wants nothing more than to lash out with violence, because _how_ could Ryder choose the _Collective_ but not _him_? How could Ryder _pull a gun_ on Reyes? _After everything?_ And how had _Reyes_ let himself hope the situation would’ve ever turned out differently?

But this isn’t the time for violence, either.

Scott had asked him a question.

Reyes gives him the answer, even knowing it’s not likely to make a difference: “I… liked the way you looked at me. I was afraid that would change.”

Like it _did_.

It’s a strange feeling – this mixture of vindication and despair that swells within him – but it looks like Reyes had been right, all along. Revealing who he was _had_ changed the way the other man looked at him. It had changed _everything_.

Reyes isn’t looking at the gun anymore, doesn’t care about it, at the moment. He’d never cared about it, really, only about what it represented… but he’s come to terms with that, now, too. He lowers his hands to his side, dropping the gesture of supplication.

Movement over the other man’s shoulder catches Reyes’ attention for a second, but with a flick of his fingers, he waves his agent off with Scott none the wiser.

He doesn’t need the help.

He knows what’s coming next.

He never should’ve hoped for anything more.

“You’re not the man I thought you were,” the human Pathfinder announces – and it’s _the Pathfinder_ , because this is not _his_ Ryder, not his _Scott_ – as he gives his head a shake and leans away.

The gun doesn’t move, and for a second, that’s even more infuriating to Reyes than the alternative. Maybe he’s not so wounded, after all. And – _fuck_! – but he’d wanted _angry_ Ryder, not _dispassionate_ Ryder. Never _Pathfinder_ Ryder.

 _Come on! Yell, argue, demand an answer, give me a chance to explain, hell, shoot me!_ he wants to shout. “…I wanted to be,” he admits instead, because _I am_ is a lie.

There’s a long moment that follows, a moment where he stares into his lover’s eyes and wishes he had any right to ask for forgiveness. But he doesn’t. Scott’s _right_ to be upset. And even if he wasn’t… Reyes knows a relationship can never work when one person hates the other, can’t accept who the other is.

Ryder slips the sidearm into his thigh holster, takes his palm off the backstrap.

It’s somehow not a relief.

There’s a finality to the motion, as the Pathfinder’s fingers click the security strap back into place, shutting the weapon in its holster and their relationship in the past.

He can’t take his eyes away.

“So what now?”

 _What now_ , indeed. Reyes blows out a bitter breath, recognizing the steely question for what it is: an end. His lover – his _former_ lover – isn’t giving him much of a choice. On to business.

Very well, then.

It’s a poor consolation prize, but Reyes isn’t about to lose everything that matters to him in the same day, not when he can still control _one_ of those two things. Spine straightening, he looks back into those baby blue eyes with trained indifference. “I get to work. Kadara Port won’t take itself.”

\- - - ღ - - -

“I get to work. Kadara Port won’t take itself.”

Right.

Because _that’s_ what matters to Reyes.

Scott fights off the urge to throw out a vicious grin, to make the kind of insulting and flippant comment he’d usually use in the field when confronted with betrayal or cruelty. He strives for neutrality, for a mask of bland indifference like the one he sees reflected back at him, because there’s no need to tip those last remaining cards. He doesn’t need this Charlatan to know the power he holds over Scott.

But – _damn it!_ – he can’t help but be crushed by his lover’s response, infuriated by that unwavering focus on his next steps for the port.

_I get to work._

Not _We work through this._ or _I earn back your trust_.

Because that’s not what matters to Reyes.

Scott doesn’t have to move, doesn’t have to step to the side or hold out an arm in a _by all means, after you_ gesture. Reyes doesn’t wait for a goodbye, just turns his back and walks away, continuing off in the same direction he’d been heading since the second the duel had ended.

Because that’s what matters.


End file.
